Trauma
by Just-a-Kagehina-lover
Summary: Just something I came up with, since I love the idea of Sam and Dean being all touchy/feely without needing Wincest. As much as I love a good Wincest, there's also good old-fashioned brotherly love. Plus, hello? Destiel! Warning: child abuse, non-con/rape, angsty stuff, cussing, the works. It's pretty good though, please check it out! BoyxBoy, don't knock it till ya try it!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1-**

The blaring of the unnecessarily loud alarm clock sitting on the bedside table woke Dean from his restless sleep. Slipping a lethargic arm from under the warm comforter, the dirty blonde twenty year old slammed his loose fist on the large black button, effectively shutting the damn thing off. Dean groaned and rolled over on his other side, pulling the blankets over his head. The heavy arm around his waist tightened, and the familiar mop of unruly brown bed head nuzzled closer into the warmth of his chest.

Like a switch, Dean's older-brother/mama bird persona flipped on and reminded him of Sammy's big test today, and if they wanted to get him to school on time—with breakfast, of course—he needed to wake his sasquatch of a brother _now_ , rather than later.

With reluctant determination, the green-eyed man fought the temptation to ignore his conscience and give in to the sinful delights of memory foam and fluffy blankets. He poked the sleeping bear on his chest, then shook his shoulder gently when that didn't work. A small grunt was the only reply he earned for his graciousness. Well, patience had a limit, and as much as he'd love to stay in bed with him, Sammy needed to get up and ready right the fuck now.

"SAMMYYY!"

Flying out of the sheets with wild eyes and even wilder hair, the moose finally joined the world of the living.

"Jerk," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair and glaring through a mighty bitch face at his older brother.

"Rise and shine, Sammy! Big test today, first period. Mr. Future Bigshot Lawyer can't afford to miss that," Dean retorted with a wink, chuckling when sleepy hazel eyes shot open and Sam flew out from under the covers to get ready.

Yes, the brothers slept together, and woke up like this almost every morning (Sam was a bitch in life, and an even bigger bitch in the morning) except weekends. _Yes_ , they were fully dressed—well, in boxers and t-shirts—under those blankets every night, and _no_ , there was no hanky panky of _any_ kind going on between them. Nothing but good, old-fashioned brotherly love. And _hell no_ , neither of them wanted anything more or even _thought_ that about each other. As much as anyone in their small town would love to accuse the Winchesters of incest, everyone knew well enough that it wasn't true.

All throughout their horrible childhood, Dean and Sam Winchester had only had each other. Their drunken father was good for nothing and rarely ever put food on the table. Dean had been supporting the family since he was six, two years after their mother died in a fire, one week after their father lost his shit and walked out on his sons for the first—but definitely not last—time. Dean was only two years older than his baby brother, but he placed the weight of the world on his own shoulders so that Sammy wouldn't have to. Dean raised Sam, fed him, clothed him, sent him to school, stayed strong for him; Dean was everything Sam needed and more…but who would comfort and take care of Dean?

Things went from bad to worse after their father returned after two months and uprooted their whole lives. Dean had been scrounging up money to keep the small apartment their dad bought when Mary Winchester died in the house fire. One day, Dean and Sam walked in the door, back from preschool (Dean had insisted on staying in preschool with Sammy even though he was old enough to go to kindergarten) to find the dead beat sipping whiskey from the intimidating bottle, parking his sorry ass on the living room couch.

John had sold the apartment and packed their bags—which were waiting for them in his beat up pick-up truck—and dragged them out of the building, kicking and screaming, then drove them out of town and away from their lives in Lawrence.

Dean finally broke when his father shoved him into a separate motel room than his brother, only telling him to 'make some use of himself for once and get some damn money.' The scared and confused seven year old soon found out about real monsters, and knew for a fact that his ' _dad_ '—he was sure as hell never calling the dirty old man who had _sold_ him to a 'hunting buddy' that name ever again—was the worst of them all.

Dean had dragged his bloody and utterly _broken_ body and soul back to the motel room his baby brother was in, fueled only by the thought that his Sammy was stuck in a room with a horrible monster and he had to protect him. When he climbed into bed, Sam had woken up and rubbed his sleepy eyes, smiling happily that 'Dee' was back by his side, until he opened his eyes to see the tear-stained, bloody remains of his beautiful big brother. Their young eyes met, and for the first time, Dean gave up the task of staying strong and comforting to someone else; for the first time, he let someone take care of him. The broken, beautiful child collapsed in his brother's arms and sobbed silently, so as not to wake the drunken monster in the next bed.

From then on, Sam and Dean communicated through knowing touches: Sam took away some of Dean's pain and Dean let him. They slept in the same bed every night, often times only lying down well after two or three in the morning, after Sam cleaned his bloody brother up in the motel shower. Dean became more closed-off and shy, mistrustful of everything and leaving only the smallest chink in his armor for Sam—and _only_ Sam—to slip through and heal his broken pieces. Dean never willingly let anyone else touch him, and only talked to his brother. He was sold for countless nights over the span of three long years, until he found an ad for their old house in Lawrence, that has apparently been renovated and put for sale at a relatively cheap price for the modest home.

Hope came flooding in for the first time since John Winchester had dug his filthy claws back into their lives. Luckily, Dean had been stashing some of the money he stole from his 'customers' and John (who was often too drunk to notice or count right).

The moment John closed the motel door on his way to the nearest dive bar, Dean pulled his hidden plastic bag from its position: tucked under a pipe beneath the sink, where he had stashed it when they first checked in a couple days ago. Crawling on the bed, he called out to Sammy who'd been watching cartoons on the couch in front of the bed, and the two counted the money together. They had just enough to make it to Lawrence from where they were in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Dean pulled the crinkled newspaper clipping from his back pocket, and within five minutes, he and Sam were making their way toward the nearest bus stop, heading south.

Sam was too young to remember at the time, but Dean could never forget the kind old man that Mary had made their godfather, Bobby Singer. The elder Winchester boy could only pray the gruff geezer still lived in their hometown. He was their only chance at survival.

After five bus changes, being gifted a generous one hundred dollar bill from a wealthy elderly couple, and treating Sam to three full healthy, _real_ meals (not gas station factory-made crap), Dean carried his sleepy brother piggy-back, down the dirt road in Lawrence, Kansas that led to Singer Salvage Auto Shop: an old junkyard/mechanic/home kind of place.

By the time he reached the door, he barely had the strength to ring the doorbell before collapsing face-first, making sure Sammy never hit the ground.

Bobby Singer had never been more glad to see two dirty, exhausted, raggamuffins passed out on his doorstep. He would recognize his boys anywhere, and was more than happy to finally have them safe after disappearing so many years ago after their mother died. He cleaned them up, fed them, and tucked them into the spare bedroom he used to keep tidy for them when their mother brought them over.

Finally free of the monster, Dean was able to really begin healing. He would always be scarred and broken, but now that him and Sammy were safe, he could become the big brother again and take the burden of comforting off of Sam's shoulders and let him just be a kid.

When Sam told Bobby the morning after he found them of their plans to buy back their old house, he walked straight to his safe and pulled out all of the money they would need. The next day, they all went to the realtor and bought the house in Bobby's name. Then they went over to the nearest elementary school and enrolled the boys in second and their grade.

The boys insisted they could take care of themselves at their new/old house, so Bobby left them to their devices, knowing they had to heal more before letting anyone in. Dean still hadn't spoken a word to anyone except Sam, so Sam had the honors of telling their sad tale to Bobby, starting with their father kidnapping them and dragging them all over the country. Bobby left them alone in understanding, but came over everyday to make them at least one meal, and sent one of the neighbors if he ever got tied up with work and couldn't make it. He warned the others to give them space.

Many of the residents in the small town—like Ellen Harvelle and Jody Mills—remembered the Winchesters, even if the boys didn't remember them, so they put aside their curiosities and desire for gossip for the comfort of the poor children who used to shine so bright and laugh so loud, giving them a chance to breathe and adjust before choosing to trust them.

Dean refused to talk for a year, to anyone other than his brother, and only let Bobby in for a few months after that, until he finally began speaking at least one sentence to every kind non-stranger. Only his brother could touch him, and everyone respected that. Their town might've been small, but it had to be the most liberating and accepting community in the world (or at least anywhere the Winchester boys had ever seen), and they really appreciated it, because God knows they needed it more than anything at that time. Sammy was especially grateful, on behalf of his older brother, because he hated to see him in so much pain.

With the help of the friendly community, Dean and Sam finally had a place to call home, and a life to call their own; a real, _normal_ life. Sam still slept with Dean, and the two continued to communicate through touches (and only Sam was allowed to touch Dean) , until Dean was around fifteen, and he no longer needed to be held through the nightmares at night. Sam continued with his healing and comforting touches, hugs and cuddles, but knew without speaking that Dean was better: thus he took a left turn into a previously untouched bedroom one night instead of the usual right, into their previously shared room across the hall.

Sam never stopped touching Dean, though, because Dean never stopped needing it. Whenever someone would mention how unusual it was, someone else would let them know it was for comfort, and nothing more was said. That was the benefit of living in a small town where everyone knows everything about everyone. The boys were extra lucky to live in a small town where the people's kindness allowed them to keep the privacy of their situation, no matter how much their small-town know-it-all hearts wanted to pry, because each and every one of them also knew when it was time to stop asking questions, and how far it was okay to pry. At first glance, everyone thought that Dean was the one comforting and protecting Sam, but upon closer inspection, it was obvious that _Sam_ was really comforting _Dean_.

With the exception of a couple natural-born jerks, the kids at school were as understanding as their parents, and even Dean was able to make some really great friends eventually.

After almost seven years, Dean and Sam had finally grown fully accustomed to Lawrence and its people. Dean was still a bit shy and quiet, but he had a small circle of really close friends who were able to draw some of the old fire out from his beautiful green eyes, especially his best friends Charlie and Jo, who happened to be girlfriends. Sam had made a ton of friends, and was a fairly popular member of the basketball team and countless other clubs. He was incredibly smart—of which Dean was extremely proud and had been saving up for Sammy's college funds since he was eleven—and had a beautiful, smart, and kind girlfriend Jessica, who he couldn't get enough of. She was also more than understanding of how close the brothers were, and didn't mind in the slightest when Sam had to cancel their dates when Dean was having a bad day. In fact, she grew quite fond of Sam's older brother and even invited him on a few of their dates, which Sam was often grateful for.

Life was finally coming together for the brothers, and everything was looking up. Dean had a job at Bobby's auto shop (and had even found and fixed up an old 1967 Chevy Impala to brand-spanking-new condition. Bobby still had the keys and gave her to Dean for his sixteenth birthday; he hadn't been a day without his 'Baby' since) and he had been able to go back to being what he was best: an older brother. He finally got to relieve Sam of his duties; finally got to feel more than a pathetic, useless excuse of a brother who couldn't do anything for his baby brother. He took care of Sam better than ever, yet never closed himself off to Sam—he still needed his help, and Sam absolutely _hated_ the one time Dean tried to put on a mask around Sam and be the perfect, protective older brother who never shares his feelings or burdens. The Winchester brothers became equals, and each helped the other in different ways. Their relationship benefited the both of them, and made them into the best people they could've hoped to be: Dean was able to protect and take care of his Sammy and never have to hold back his emotions, and Sam was let in by his Dean and able to help, and never felt treated like a 'kid brother' who couldn't do anything himself.

They lived their lives happily…right up until the day after Dean's seventeenth birthday, when the _incident_ happened.

John came back, guns blazing, and their life fell to shit again. Or, it _would_ have if they hadn't lived in Lawrence, surrounded by friends and family, and their next-door neighbor, Sheriff Jody Mills. The majority of the crisis was averted, but Dean fell apart again.

After coming home from the hospital, after being shot in the shoulder by his father, Dean crawled back into his shell, leaving only enough space for Sam to crawl through with him. Sam had sensed the change in his older brother the moment the monster burst through the door, so he laid in the hospital bed, curled up next to Dean the entire week he was there. They denied all visitors, except for one visit from Bobby. No flowers were allowed to be delivered to the hospital, all per Sam's orders.

The Winchesters regressed to their early days, and Sam slid under the covers with Dean and held him every night without being asked. The blonde wouldn't see anyone or leave the house, although he made Sam go back to school. Dean dropped out, and spent his senior year at home, sitting in front of the TV while Sam was away. The tall brunette would race home as soon as the bell rang and the two would curl up in bed together for the rest of the day, until they got hungry and Sam would reheat the dishes the neighbors would leave on their doorstep. Sam would hold his shaking brother wordlessly, stroking large, soothing hands through his short, sandy blonde hair, and let his arms and legs encompass Dean's smaller form—made smaller by the childlike state he was reduced to after his trauma.

They stayed like that for about a year, before Dean slowly started poking his head out of his shell, sharing a few words with his brother only, and going for long walks (in which everyone kept their distance with sad, knowing smiles) while Sam was away. A couple months after his eighteenth birthday, Dean returned to work, speaking few words only to Bobby at first, then eventually the rest of the crew (including two of his closest friends Ash and Benny). Sam still held his brother every night, and every moment they were together, but he was able to see Jess more often and take her out a few times; she was more than understanding—the whole town was—especially since they had all witnessed what cause Dean's personal retreat this time. The townsfolk still never knew what had happened during their childhood, but the insane father that showed up on their doorstep more than made up for a mental picture.

Luckily, the Winchester boys had gained the full love and support from the whole town, and this time around they already had their friends backing them up. Dean recovered far quicker than the last time. He came out of his shell long enough each day to hang out with his five closest friends for a while and go to work. He still needed the comforting touches of his brother, he still wouldn't let anyone else touch him, and he still needed Sammy's warm hands in his hair and strong arms holding him through the nightmares.

At twenty years old, Dean was almost back to whatever semblance of normal he had achieved before the incident.

Walking to the conjoined bathroom where Sam was already trying to simultaneously brush his teeth and put on his clothes, Dean grabbed his toothbrush from the holder and bumped his moose of a brother's hip with his. He still couldn't believe how high his baby brother had shot up. Sammy was 6'4" and only eighteen years old! Who the hell's damn genetics made Dean a good three inches shorter than his younger brother?!

With a mouth full of foamy mint toothpaste, Dean garbled, "'en mi'utes 'oo 'et yur assh down foh brea'fass, 'ot i', Shammy?"

"Yeah, yeah, jerk."

"'isch."

Dean spit the white bubbles down the sink drain, turned on the water and splashed some in his mouth and on his face, then toweled off and headed for his closet to pull on some clean clothes.

After changing, the blonde trudged down the carpeted steps to the quaint kitchen where he spent most of his time at home. As much as Dean liked fixing cars, he _loved_ fixing up a mean meal. Especially breakfast. He might not have been the brightest sunshine on the block at six am, but he'd never miss a good breakfast.

The smell of eggs, pancakes and crispy bacon wafted through the charming little house, bringing a drooling Sam down the stairs in his flannel and jeans.

Sam set his backpack on the floor by the front door and his shoes before striding to the kitchen. He took his usual place behind Dean and wrapped his long arms around the smaller man, who leaned back against his chest and sighed in relief. Dean always felt better when Sam was physically connected to him, and although he'd never admit it to anyone but Sam, hugs were his favorite.

Dean pushed around the sizzling bacon and flipped a couple pancakes onto their plates before piping up, "It'll be done in a sec. What are you doing today besides the big math test?"

"I've got a quiz in anatomy in third period, and a presentation in fourth, which is Latin Studies," Sam replied.

Smiling broadly, Dean looked up at his brother with pride gleaming in his eyes, "You're so smart, Sammy," he stated gently. Only Sam could get his older brother to open up so completely and speak his mind, even when he's thinking 'girly stuff' (as Dean likes to put it), and that constantly kept a warm fire of pride and a little bit of selfish delight burning in Sam's chest. He liked to be the only one his brother could truly and completely open up to and rely on.

Turning off the stovetop burners, Dean lifted the pans of breakfast goods—careful to avoid Sam's enormous hands where they were still wrapped securely around his waist—and divided the food into their usual portions.

Sam lifted the plates when Dean had finished putting the eggs, bacon and pancakes on them, and took them to the small table in the dining room and set them in their usual spots. He headed back into the kitchen to grab two tall glasses and fill them with orange juice from the fridge, then walked around his brother to grab forks for both of them and set the table while Dean cleaned the kitchen, as per usual. Dean went straight to work after dropping Sam off at school, so he always cleaned while the taller brother got the table ready for them to eat.

Wiping his wet hands on a rag, Dean set the last pan on the drying rack beside the sink and went into the dining room where Sam was seated patiently. As soon as Dean sat, they both tucked in to the delicious homemade breakfast. If there was one quality Sam would praise the heavens for bestowing on Dean, it was definitely his innate culinary skills. The man was a natural-born chef! Sam often encouraged his brother to pursue a higher career in the field, but Dean was content with his quaint kitchen in the small house in Lawrence.

Once finished, Dean collected the plates and silverware and rinsed them before placing them in the small white dishwasher, while Sam got his shoes on and hopped in the car. Dean grabbed the keys to his baby and headed out, locking the door behind him.

Loud 80's rock music poured out from the open windows of the Impala as the autumn wind blew in.

"Dean!" Sam complained, frantically trying to calm his wild wind-hair, "Close the damn window! You know how hard I work on taming this mess when I get out of bed!"

The blonde only three his head back and laughed into the wind, reaching out to turn the volume up and stepping on the gas pedal. He drove seventy miles per hour in a fifty zone for about ten seconds before taking pity on his brother and slowing down, rolling the windows up.

Dean turned the music back down, still chuckling, and looked over to a very disgruntled Sam with mirth bubbling out of his sparkling green eyes.

"Not my fault you insist on having L'Oreal locks, Bitch!"

"You fucking _jerk_! You're lucky I stashed a hairbrush in your glove compartment."

"What?! Who said you could keep that girly crap in Baby?"

"Dean!" Sam cried exasperatedly, "It's a _hairbrush_! Boys use those too, ya know."

"Yeah, _boys_! Men use _combs_ or the fucking sweat off their manly bodies and the bones of their manly enemies to keep their manly hair in check!"

Sam scoffed, "What would you know about being manly? You're _gay_!"

"I know enough…and I'm _bi_."

Shooting Dean an incredulous look, Sam shook his head and chuckled, "Dean I know you, you're definitely hot under the collar for guys. I haven't seen you check out a girl's ass _once_ , but every decent-looking man gets at least a _twice_ -over."

Dean just stuck his tongue out and grinned cheekily, reaching over to punch his moose in the arm.

Before they pulled into the school parking lot, Dean turned the music down even further, knowing the drill. He loved teasing Sammy but he would never embarrass him at school; they drew an invisible line after all the towns they blew through with horrible bullies. Although nobody in Lawrence was like that, you never know.

Dean drove through the drop-off curve and slowed to a stop.

"Oh!" Sam exclaimed while reaching in the backseat for his backpack, "I'm taking Jessica on a date tonight, mind if I borrow the car? We're leaving right after school."

Knowing he had nothing else to do besides work, Dean nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'll park her in the student parking lot and call Benny for a ride to work. Have fun, be safe, wear a condom." He winked, smirking at his lovestruck puppy of a brother.

Sam rolled his eyes and thanked his brother, kissing Dean on the cheek before hopping out and strolling into school.

Dean did as promised and parked Baby in the school lot, then called his work partner and good friend Benny. The Cajun man came to his rescue as always, and the two headed to work with cheerful chatter and playful banter. Dean had a little reciprocated crush on the larger redhead, but neither had made any moves: Dean due to his traumatic past, and Benny due to the understanding that Dean needed a friend, not a _boy_ friend.

After a long day of sweating in the September sun, up to his elbows in grease and car oil—only taking a two hour break for lunch and friends—, Dean texted Sammy to let him know he was done with work and ask if he was done with his date. Sam had finished the successful date with Jess and had been home studying and doing work for a couple hours, so he hopped in the car to go pick Dean up from the auto shop.

As Dean waited on Bobby's front porch sipping a cold bottle of water, he looked into the sunset and thought about how far he and Sammy'd come. How much better their lives were, and how grateful he was for the friends that surrounded them. For the first time in his life, he was truly content, and he wouldn't change their situation for the world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2-**

Castiel threw the last of his meager amount of bags in the trunk of his new car with trembling excitement and nerves—well, it was a meager amount for someone who was completely uprooting their life and starting over in a small town somewhere in, what was it…oh, Kansas. He was pretty sure he'd never seen a hay bale in his life, having grown up in a penthouse suite looking down on Times Square.

Castiel Novak was the youngest heir of the Novak family, one of the top ten richest and most influential in the world, particularly the religious world. He hardly ever saw hide or hair of his parents, and only then if they were giving him special orders or something. He had four siblings (from oldest to youngest: Michael, Lucifer, Anael, and Gabriel), all of them, including himself, were named after angels. Strict and almost completely separate upbringings were designed to keep each child in check. They rarely spent time together as siblings. Castiel was raised in a separate room than his eldest two brothers (who shared their penthouse suite in the hotel across the square). At first, Gabriel lived with him, but the older Novak was kicked out when he was only fourteen, and Castiel was ten.

Gabriel was everything Castiel wished he could be; he absolutely adored his older brother. At night, after Gabriel would sneak back in past the guards—who loved him and would let him walk through the doors late anyway without telling, but he just loved the adventure of sneaking around—he would crawl in bed with Castiel and tell him about all his adventures, and the things he had seen that day while shirking his private lessons.

Gabriel was wild, creative, and a genius with flour and water: he could make any pastry under the sky, and often times they tasted better than any five star restaurant the Novaks frequented. Out of everything Gabriel did, Castiel was only jealous of the fact that he had a mind of his own. He refused to become a soldier for their parents, and let them condescend him, or take away any freedom he stole back. Gabriel could never be content with what little freedom he did have though, and said he would never be free until his last name was no longer Novak. So their parents disowned him at the age of fourteen, and gave him enough travel money to go anywhere in the world on a one-way trip.

He became the family pariah, never to be spoken of or named. The Novaks had him removed from all records of relation, and created a new last name and upbringing for him, birth records and all. Gabriel became a Milton, and he was never happier.

Castiel grew up alone after that, and his parents pulled the reins tighter. He was never allowed outside, unless he was being shuttled to the office to work long hours. The only thing he could do in his free time was read books and study, so he learned to like it. He read as many books as he could get his hands on and tried to forget the world he was living in, in favor of drowning himself in another.

Castiel was never asked what he wanted to do or become; he was _told_ what he would do and become, which was a freaking Cardinal, and aspire to become pope! Michael and Lucifer (he wasn't even allowed a nickname) were taking over the company, and their parents wanted to dig their claws deeper into the religious world, so he was forced to become a priest when he was fifteen.

What Castiel was never asked, and what he always dreamed of doing, was becoming a writer. He loved stories so much, that his personal library kept running out. One day, when he finished the last book, a tiny, unthinkable thought popped in his head. It was absurd, ridiculous, and a waste of time, but he found himself in front of a piece of paper and scrawling rapidly in no time. He convinced himself it was just to pass the time, and that nothing would come of it, and within two weeks he had finished his first novel.

Castiel's first act of defiance was contacting Gabriel. His older brother was ecstatic to hear from him, and they talked long into the night. Without really meaning to, Castiel told his older brother about his unpublished work and how he really wanted to be a writer (not a fucking _pope_ ). Gabriel was over the moon with how happy he was that 'his little Cassie was putting his big boy pants on and thinking for himself.' He asked to read the books—and by this time, he'd had almost five in his series—so Castiel emailed the novels to his brother using a secure fake email on a personal laptop, so his parents couldn't find it or trace the email.

Almost as soon as he received them, Gabriel blew through the first four books and was hungry for more. He told his younger brother how amazing they were, and Castiel sent him the completed fifth book.

After thorough consideration, careful preparation, and a ton of pep talk, Gabriel sent the novels to a friend of his, Balthazar, who happened to be in the publishing business. Gabriel gave Balthazar Castiel's secure email, and the two corresponded until finally, the publisher won his consent to publish the first book under the name Jimmy Milton. They planned to see how well the series sold, only publishing one book per year. The books took like a duck to water, and the first one became a national bestseller within three months of its release.

After having proof of his pure joy and serenity when writing, and the knowledge that it was a successful career path for him (he already made over one million dollars on his own: put into a bank account in Gabriel's town under his pen name), Castiel grew increasingly anxious to escape the leash his parents put around his neck.

With Gabriel's help, Castiel slowly forged a new life for himself: changing birth records, bank accounts, his legal name. During the short amount of time Gabriel had lived with the Novaks, he had garnered some powerful allies in all sorts of businesses, people who didn't care for the Novaks, and were willing to do anything to usurp them. Raphael was a ruthless, religious tycoon who allowed Castiel to change everything under the radar of his parents, because he would love any chance to get under the Novaks' skins.

When he was twenty-three years old, Castiel was finally ready to leave behind the cruel world he knew, and join Gabriel in the real world. His second and third book had been published already and they were even more popular than the first, so the name Jimmy Milton was rapidly rising throughout even the closed-off society his parents lived in.

Castiel waited until the day of a large company banquet, where he feigned sickness so that he 'couldn't' attend. His hotel guards and the valet had his belongings and car just about ready by the time the Novaks left for the party. Castiel had bought a brown, nondescript Mini Cooper with his new identity and his own money, so that his parents wouldn't be able to track his car (they didn't implant a GPS inside, and they didn't know the license or the policy holder's name).

With the last of his bags thrown into the car, Castiel hopped in the front seat and leaned out the window to look up gratefully at his valet when he closed the door.

"See you, old friend. Thank you for everything."

"Be safe, Mr. Milton," the valet winked, "and good luck."

Castiel handed him one thousand dollars, and drove out onto Main Street. He left the windows rolled down and just enjoyed the liberating feel of wind blowing through his wild locks of raven hair and the light of the sunset on his face. Things were finally looking up for Castiel, and for the first time in his life, he could see a bright future ahead of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3-**

Lawrence, Kansas was buzzing in the late afternoon sun, the people talking excitedly amongst themselves about the new arrival to their small town. Dean was sitting in the town's only, albeit _best_ , bakery, Just Desserts, eating a hot apple pie languidly and staring out the window.

He was taking a break from the shop, per Bobby's insistence, while _Lisa Braeden_ was trying to get her car oil changed for the third time this week. Apparently she didn't get the memo that Dean was as gay as a leprechaun dancing on top of a unicorn farting fucking rainbows, but that's her problem. She was nice enough, but like most girls Dean's ever encountered, she's _pushy_ and slightly underhanded.

After _weeks_ of trying to get her off his case, he'd given up hope. Not even gay _incest_ could stop her (yes, he'd even tried telling her he was dating his brother at one point). Unfortunately, it was a small town, full of mostly kind and understanding people, so everyone she had asked to confirm had told her that they were just brothers, and that she should leave them alone. Bobby had had to dismiss her from the shop when she wouldn't give up after three weeks; he was about to ban her from the property and see about getting Dean a restraining order against her.

One would think after his panic attack the one time she wrapped her claws around his bicep, she'd get the hint, but she'd merely restrained herself from touching him. He'd had to take five showers that day, with the help of his brother, and he wouldn't leave the house for a week, or talk to anyone besides Sam for a few days after he finally left the house.

Lisa was running him ragged, and he couldn't keep up.

Fingers appeared in his vision suddenly, snapping and clapping to bring him back down from his solemn reverie.

Looking up, Dean saw a pair of honey-colored eyes a little too close for comfort.

"Hey Gabe, what's up?"

"Dean-o!" Gabriel, the town's baker and one of Sam and Dean's best friends replied, winking saucily and leaning closer with his chin in the palm of his hand, "How's the pie today? Up to standard?"

"Heavenly," Dean joked with a smirk and his own wink.

Gabriel laughed and sat down in the seat across from Dean at the small table. Dean thought Gabriel was definitely one of the more attractive males in town, with his shoulder-length golden hair, matching honey eyes, and mischievous smirk. He was also damn luck with how fit he was able to stay, all delicious muscle and whatnot, while he ate like Augustus Gloop in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. His insatiable sweet tooth was probably the reason he was so damn good at making pastries.

After a moment of silence, Dean realized Gabriel was looking at him expectantly, meaning he had probably asked him a question.

"What?" He asked smartly.

Gabriel rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then looked at him with concern before asking, "What's up with you? You're more of a space cadet than usual?"

"Lisa," Dean grumbled sourly.

Making a silent 'oh' with his mouth, Gabriel nodded his head in understanding. "Anything I can do to help? Should I make out with you in front of her so she gets the picture in that pea brain of hers?"

Dean huffed a disheartened laugh, "No, man. Thanks, but she didn't even bat an eye when I tried to make her think me 'n Sammy were going at it like rabbits."

"Well that's cause everyone already _knows_ you two are conjoined at the hip. Speaking of, where is Samsquatch on this fine Saturday afternoon?"

"Taking Jess to the lake, they'll be gone till, like, eight or something."

"Well, I'd offer some company, but my baby brother will need my help when he gets in tonight."

"What?" Dean asked, furrowing his brows in confusion, "You have a brother?"

"Three brothers actually, and a sister, but only Cassie counts. C'mon Dean-o, you mean to tell me you haven't heard the talk of the town?" Gabriel raised a hand to his heart, looking mock-offended.

"Sorry, I've been a little… _preoccupied_ with my thoughts."

"Ah, right. Busy devising the perfect plan to escape the she-devil's nefarious clutches."

The green-eyed man laughed softly at that, which made Gabriel grin widely, considering getting even _that_ much out of the beautiful man in front of him was no easy feat nowadays. Dean smiled gently at his friend, grateful for his distracting antics that never failed to brighten up his mood.

"She's not _that_ ba—hey, I never said she wasn't _bad,_ just not _that_ bad." Dean finished, chuckling softly.

"Yeah, tell that to the people who have to aid you in the great escape every time she lands her beady vulture eyes on you. And you know she really does have beady eyes!"

"Alright, alright. Down boy," the taller man smiled, "Anyway, back to your brother? When were you going to tell me?"

"We've been planning this in secret for years, so it's been pretty hush hush; had to get everything _perfect_ in order for it to work. He's finally getting out of the cage, dude!" The honey-blonde smiled proudly, obviously excited for his brother and eager to show him off.

"What's he like? You said you came from New York, is he driving all the way here too?"

"Yeah. Cassie's flying the coop. See, we've got these tycoon-type parents. Rich, snobby, the works. They raised us to be soldiers, do whatever they wanted. _I_ was never like that of course, but after I left—on my own, thank you—they told the family they kicked me out and erased my records. Really, though, I erased my own records and created my new identity at the awesome age of fourteen; that's how I was able to help Cassie change all his shit, too."

Gabriel paused for a moment to take a breath,before continuing, "Anyway, we planned this all out perfectly so they wouldn't know where he went or how to track him. They don't know my new name, since I changed it under their radar, so they won't know where to look for his. We had to get him out, man, they were gonna make him the pope and al—"

"Waitwaitwait-a-minute! What?! The _pope_?! Who the hell _are_ you?!"

"They're super rich and religious and influential and shit. Yes the pope, now let me get on with my damn sob story!"

Dean closed his gaping mouth and waited patiently for Gabe to continue.

" _Anyway_ , he really wanted to be a writer, so he sent me some of his work and it was amazing, and I mean _amazing_ , and I _hate_ reading! So yeah, we got him published, and now he's got his own money to live off of—that really helped get him out of that den of evil without a trace—and now he's coming here!"

Gabriel's eyes were shining with excitement and bubbling with overflowing pride. He was probably almost as fond of his brother as Dean was of his.

"That's good for you both, you'll have someone else to bother on a daily basis," Dean laughed as Gabriel reached across the table to pretend to slap him (he was always cautious and respectful of Dean) while pouting like a petulant child. Pointing out a finger, Dean added, "You've been spending too much time with Sammy, you've almost perfected the bitch face."

Gabriel just crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue playfully.

"So…what's he like? You never answered my question."

Getting a dangerous gleam in his eyes, Gabe smirked and pulled a lolly pop out of his apron pocket, unwrapping it and popping it in his mouth before speaking, "Oh, Dean-o! You'll _love_ him! He's got super dark brown hair, pale skin, huge, bright blue eyes and dark lashes. I bet he's got plenty of muscles by now, though I haven't actually seen him since he was ten—he's twenty-three, by the way. I'll bet my house he's a gorgeous piece of ass now."

Crinkling his face in disgust, Dean replied, "That was sooo weird, Gabe! I don't really think you're supposed to say that about your _brother_. And I was asking about his _personality_ , not appearance."

"Hey, I'm just being honest! He always had the prettiest eyes, and I always wondered what he'd look like growing up," Gabriel said with a faraway look in his eyes. Shrugging, he continued, "Don't mean I'm all hot under the collar for him; just like you and your brother constantly touching doesn't mean you _like_ like each other!" He winked scandalously at his attractive green-eyed friend.

Dean rolled his eyes fondly before he felt his cell phone buzz in his jacket pocket. Plucking it out, he checked the screen before answering, "Hey, Bobby! Is it safe?"

"Yep. The she-witch is finally gone. You sure ya don't want me to get ya a restraining order? I've about had it. Jody could fix one up real quick, boy."

"Yeah, I'll manage. Thanks Bobby. I'll head back up there now, better do it sooner before she figures out where I am."

"Alright, well, I've officially banned her from the property, so she shouldn't bother you here. I told her if she needs another damn oil change, she can head to my old friend Rufus in the next town over."

Dean chuckled a bit before saying goodbye and hanging up. When he looked up, he saw that Gabriel had gotten back to work behind the counter, attending to the small line that had congregated confusedly in his absence. Forking the last of his cooled-down pie in this mouth and licking the fork clean, Dean hopped up from his seat, pushed the chair in, and saluted Gabriel on his way out the door.

The cool autumn air was a bit nippy, so he pulled his leather jacket a little tighter and headed to the Impala. After a ten minute drive he was back in the garage with his head under a busted Ford.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4-**

Castiel pulled into his new driveway, parked the Mini Cooper and slumped tiredly in the driver's seat. After three straight days of driving, only stopping for gas, coffee, and pulling over to sleep for a few hours once, he'd had about enough of driving.

As soon as he garnered enough strength, Castiel climbed out of the compacted car and stretched his aching limbs. An odd squeaky squealing sort of noise shook him from his caffeinated dream-like state, and he whipped around just in time to get a face full of golden hair.

Politely extracting himself from this…whatever it was, he couldn't really make it out yet, he looked down to find himself staring at wide sparkling _golden_ eyes and an enormous white smile.

"Gabriel?"

The short man laughed in delight, made that weird squealing noise again, and nodded enthusiastically.

"I didn't know if you'd recognize me after all this time! Cassie, it's so good to finally see you!"

Gabriel grabbed his younger brother's hand and dragged him into the unlocked front door of his new house, and Castiel let him, still hardly believing it was real and he was actually free.

"You'll love this house! It's small, but big enough for two—" Gabe paused to add a playful wink, "—and you have an office upstairs, where you can work in peace. There's a small kitchen over here—" He dragged Castiel over to the little tiled room, filled with glazed wooden countertops and a white fridge/freezer. The cabinets were a darker shade of wood than the counters, and lined the wall above and below them. There was a white dish rack beside the sink, and a white and black dishwasher below that. A small hallway to the right led to a pantry and small cupboard under the stairs. Leading his brother to the room by the front door and front-facing windows (going through the pantry hallway), Gabriel continued, "—and this is your dining room. Back through the kitchen, or around these stairs—" Gabriel pointed in front in front of them, "—is the living room. I got ya a flat screen, since I figured you had the money, so why not, huh?"

Gabe then pulled Castiel up the stairs to show him the bedrooms (master and guest) and the hallway bathroom. At the end of the hallway was Castiel's favorite part of the house: the 'office'. Gabriel had decked the walls with tall bookshelves, filled with rows upon rows of all of Castiel's favorites (he even bought the Jimmy Milton series as a little joke and left a good three shelves empty for Castiel to fill himself). In the far left corner of the room, there was a small desk with a brand new Apple Mac computer, and a small laptop with a bow on top beside it. In the right corner was a comfortable looking reclining chair with a small coffee table in front of it and a taller, slimmer table beside it with just enough room for the small lamp that was already perched on top. Castiel's eyes sparkled with glee, and he turned to his older brother and hugged him tightly, something he never would have done before.

"Thank you so much, Gabriel! It's perfect!"

Smiling widely, the short blonde replied, "Of course, Cassie, what are big brothers for? Anyway, you can make out with your office later. I've got to show you the most important part before I help ya move in and set you loose."

Confused and curious, Castiel followed his brother down the stairs and back out to the front lawn. Pointing over to the house next door, Gabriel said, "That's Benny's house. He's a real teddy bear. He's Cajun and doesn't take shit from anybody, so if you need help with the locals, go to him."

Then he turned to the house directly across the street and whispered conspiratorially, "But _that_ house is the _important_ one. That's where the Winchesters live: Sam and Dean. Sam's a moose, really, he's _enormous_. He's the sweet younger brother. His older brother is the grumpy one, Dean. He's real sweet and shy too, but he's wary of strangers. He's _real_ easy on the eyes though. _Man_! That is one fine piece of meat right there; you'll see what I mean." Gabriel patted his brother on the chest and winked lasciviously before he suddenly grew solemn.

"But warning: don't touch him; only Sammy can. They've got their own thing goin' on, but I promise they're just brothers. You can ask around, but nobody'll tell you anything. This may be a small town, but it's the most accepting place I've ever seen. Everyone is loved and protected here, and that includes the Winchester's privacy. Let's just say they had a really bad childhood and leave it at that." He smiled comfortingly at his brother, then turned to the car and shouted at him to start unloading.

The brothers worked long and hard at moving Castiel _Milton_ into his new home, but the whole time, Castiel's mind was stuck on what his brother has said about his new neighbors, especially Dean. He felt like he had heard something significant for some reason, as if he was supposed to know Dean. Castiel figured it was just his writer's curiosity being piqued at the mention of a tragic past.

By the time the Miltons had finished unpacking and everything was set up how Castiel wanted it, it was eight-thirty, and both were exhausted. The rumbling purr of another car resounded through the house, perking the brothers' ears.

"Ah, that's Dean. Maybe Sammy's back too. Should I introduce you?" Gabe looked at his brother, asking for permission.

"Sure, why not? Might as well do it now."

"Attaboy! C'mon, put your shoes on and let's hop to it."

The two grabbed their jackets as a last minute thought, to fight the chilly night air, and walked toward the Winchester house. Gabriel skipped ahead of his brother, and left Castiel dumbstruck and appalled when he simply opened the front door and walked in.

Stuttering and stumbling over a choked out cry of shock, Castiel urgently tried to wave his brother back outside and stop him from intruding. Gabriel looked back and laughed heartily at his flailing brother, and simply turned and walked back in the house.

Castiel stood in shock for a moment before dropping his arms and closing his gaping mouth. He huffed indignantly and shuffled his feet around awkwardly. He had no idea what he was doing. He was standing in the middle of some random stranger's yard, just _standing_ , while his brother barged in through the front door. Castiel was holding his breath, waiting for the shouts and bangs to let him know Gabriel was being kicked out for trespassing. When he was met by silence, he tilted his head, confused, then began internally freaking out even more. What the hell was going on?! What was he supposed to do, _stand_ here all night?! Where the hell was Gabriel and _why the hell_ did he leave his socially awkward, sheltered baby brother out in the biting autumn wind and night air?!

A sudden peal of delightful laughter broke the panicked silence around Castiel. That had to be one of the most beautiful sounds Castiel has ever heard. Looking up, his ice blue eyes meet with shocking emerald green orbs. Castiel's breath hitches in his throat, and his eyes are drawn down to the features of the green-eyed man.

Standing before him has to be the most beautiful man in the world. A soft amused smile framed by curvy pink lips graces the man's face. The porch light casts a golden glow over his skin—which is rippling with soft, yet defined muscles—making him look almost _ethereal_ in the dark night. His short-cropped, Sandy blonde hair suits his delicate facial features, like the slim, perfect nose in the exact center of his face. His eyes, though, have to be the most magical part. The vibrant green is framed by thick, dark lashes so long their shadows would be visible dancing on his high cheek bones from across a room. His Adonis' body is like the icing on the cake. Firm muscles everywhere, and a soft-looking belly makes it obvious he probably doesn't work out as much as he probably used to. But the slight pudge is adorable and just serves to make Castiel more entranced. And _God_ , his _bowlegs_! Thousands of fantasies would probably never come close to how it would feel to have those beautiful long legs wrapped around his waist.

Well, Gabriel had been right about one thing for sure: Dean Winchester was a _fine_ piece of meat.


End file.
